


thread your needle through my heart (and stitch us into one)

by karasunotsubasa



Series: modus vivendi [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Bickering, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fashion & Couture, Fashion Designer Victor Nikiforov, Fluff, Foot Fetish, Friendly banter, GOTHS DO WEAR WHITE OKAY, I can't believe that's an actual tag omg I love it, Look it Up, M/M, NOW WHY ISN'T THIS A TAG YOU COWARDS, Non-Explicit, Shoe Kink, Shoes, Short & Sweet, Spontaneous Proposals, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, beauty lover victor nikiforov, fashion designer yuuri katsuki, in his spare time victor makes shoes, love love love, playful yuuri katsuki, versace is an acquired taste, vichris friendship, victor nikiforov's big gay crush, we all know why, yuuri katsuki loves pretty dresses and that's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-02 11:29:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: "I don't do fashion. I am fashion."—Coco Chanel





	1. hair stylists are life stylists in disguise

**Author's Note:**

> these are the little ficlets from an au I've created for the [@victuri big bang](https://victuri-big-bang.tumblr.com/) with [@littorella](https://littorella.tumblr.com/) which will be posting soon, but before that monster fic is up, and bc it's [@yoi fashion week](https://yurionrunway.tumblr.com/), here's a taste of what's to come!  
> written specifically for this event, these will have no impact on the actual story so pls enjoy this frivolous bit of fun! ❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 1: fashion stylists ******
> 
> happens somewhere within chapter 2 of draped in your love

 

"A little shorter in the back maybe," Victor says, looking into the mirror that Lucien is holding behind his head. He runs his fingers through the already short hair on his nape and hums. "Yeah, a little shorter in the back, please."

"Okay," the hairdresser agrees. "What about the front? Should we leave it like this?"

Victor flips his fringe with a tilt of his head, blows on the strands that cover one of his eyes. Before he can answer that it seems fine as is, Chris' teasing voice makes him drop his jaw open in offended silence.

"Leave it, darling," his traitor of a best friend says with a grin. "At least then he'll have an excuse as to why he always trips whenever someone mentions Yuuri Katsuki around him."

"I don't trip!"

Victor flips his fringe while he whips his head around, which earns him a warning glance from Lucien in the big mirror Victor is sitting in front of. Victor throws him an apologetic smile, and then glares at Chris' reflection, because it's all. his. fault.

All of it: Phichit Chulanont's contract, Victor's rapidly developing crush, the silly party that Victor isn't sure about attending anymore. Hell, Chris is even the reason why Victor left the audition room that fateful evening, because it was Chris who has asked him to bring over a file of that Czech model they used for the winter show in the hopes of maybe fitting him into the line-up if they can't find anyone better.

Honestly, Victor feels justified in his pouting. He doesn't deserve this teasing. At least not from _Chris_.

"Fine," Chris says, turning over a page of Harper's Bazaar with a bored flick of his wrist. "You stumble. Very gracefully and unnoticeably, which is why everyone is now aware of your big gay crush on him."

"They're aware of my big gay crush, because you can't keep your mouth shut," Victor points out, keeping his head still as Lucien snips away at his hair.

"Oh, honey..." Chris gives him a pitying smile. "If you think they didn't notice your pining all on their own then maybe Lucien should cut all that fringe off so you could finally see clearly for once. Your thirst is almost visible to the naked eye."

"It's not that bad," Victor mumbles and looks for help from Lucien. He's the only sane one between the three of them, so Victor feels justified to ask: "Is it?"

"Well," Lucien starts slowly over the snip snip snip of the scissors. "I know all the details because Chris really can't keep his mouth shut, you're right."

The tiny gasp Chris makes is definitely a delightful sound to Victor's ears right about now.

"But your crush _is_ fairly obvious. He's right, too," Lucien adds. "You blush at the very mention of him, Victor. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why."

Lucien takes a step back to look at Victor's hair from a different angle before he steps in again and cuts some more. The snippets of Victor's strands fall to the floor like silver glitter and cover the floor in spider webs, but he can't feel anything about that – all his feelings are focused on the very obvious crush he has on _only one of the best designers of their age_ , big deal.

"But I have to admit, I'm happy for you, Victor," Lucien tells him, smiling down at him in the mirror. "It's doing you good, love. I've never seen you more genuinely enjoying yourself, so I hope it works out for you. You deserve it."

There is little that Victor can say to such kind, sweet words, so he blushes as the warmth of the selfless encouragement spills over his chest straight from his touched heart. He gives a small, oddly shy "Thanks," in return, unable to say much else.

Chris coos at him, but Victor ignores him until he comes to stand next to Lucien. When Chris' hand claps on Victor's shoulder it's impossible to ignore him longer, though. Victor isn't a person who sulks for the sake of sulking, so he drops his pout at the grin on Chris' face, because no matter how many years go by, Chris is still his best friend – sometimes an asshole of a best friend, _but still_ – and Victor knows that when that grin makes it onto his face, things are about to get fun.

Or horrible. There really is no telling, until he's face deep into a toilet, puking his guts out in some random hotel bathroom the morning after.

"We'll get you laid, cheri," Chris says with a certainty that makes Victor slightly afraid of his plans. "Maybe that's all you need to get Yuuri Katsuki out of your system."

Lucien clicks his tongue. "I doubt that's a good idea. Don't play with his heart like that."

"Sweetheart," Chris smiles at him, "the only heart I am playing with tonight is Yuuri Katsuki's, because I'm pretty sure the moment he sees Victor he will be tripping just like this big oaf."

He claps Victor's shoulder again.

"This big oaf can hear you, you know," Victor mumbles, but he isn't entirely upset.

He can't be, because he knows Chris. And he knows that for all of his teasing, Chris is rooting for him as much as Victor did root for him back when Chris was a walking wreck, stressed out by the prospect of Lucien saying 'no' when he proposes. Since that adventure turned out more than alright, as the ring on Lucien's hand suggests, Victor can't help but hope that maybe he's on the right path to eternal happiness as well. Probably not what he envisioned as a child, but... if the road leads to heaven, he will not be complaining about the bumps along the way.

His mama didn't raise a quitter, after all.

"Then let's get you into your clothes," Chris says. "And then you'll charm your prince and we'll all live happily ever after."

"What happened to me getting laid and fixing my problems that way?" Victor lifts an eyebrow just as Lucien takes the robe off of his shoulders, shaking his head at the both of them.

"Who said you can't have the cake and eat it too?" Chris winks at him. "Just get two cakes."

Lucien sighs and with a roll of his eyes pushes Chris towards the clothing rack, where all their suits hang in back garment bags ever since Chris has brought them an hour ago.

"Don't listen to him. Just be yourself, Victor, and I'm sure you'll charm him. And remember to have fun, none of Chris' shady two-timing business."

"I'm hurt, love! I would never–" Chris announces from further away, but neither of them pay him any attention.

"I would be a dead man without you, Lucien." Victor squeezes his arm. "Thank you."

"I wish I could say it's not true, but..."

They both look at Chris then and it's to no one's surprise that instead of putting on his suit, he's in the middle of opening a bottle of champagne. The cork pops and three glasses get filled with bubbles before Chris saunters over and gives them one each.

He raises his own in a toast.

"To Victor. May he finally find that which he's been looking for."

Victor doesn't say "But I already did," out loud as their glasses click together, yet as the champagne goes smoothly down his throat, he sure hopes that he isn't wrong. And tonight, he will know for sure. Or he will die trying.

 


	2. wearable art or halloween costume? what is the true face of avant-garde but the pride we take in our wildest dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 2: costumes ******

 

 

 

Yuuri's phone rings right when he puts the toothbrush in his mouth. The timing is impeccable, so with a small sigh, he keeps on brushing as he goes to pick up, but it's already with a smile that he does – all because of the name that flashes on the screen.

"Hey," he says softly over the toothpaste that is foaming out of the corner of his mouth.

He wipes it with a thumb, but his smile stubbornly sticks around: soft, goofy, and happier than it should be, given the current situation.

"Yuuri!" Victor shouts from the other end, a bundle of excitement even over the phone. "I just got it in the mail! The Japanese Vogue! The one with your dress piece on the cover! It looks so much better in person, wow! That's so stunning, Yuuri, you're so talented!"

That's all the gushing it takes to throw Yuuri's peaceful night-time routine in the wind, because when he looks into the mirror all he sees is his flushed cheeks and bright, shining eyes that speak volumes of exactly how far gone Yuuri is for the man currently singing his praises.

"It's not that big of a deal," Yuuri mumbles, but he can't stop smiling anyway. "They just wanted to feature me because I'm Japanese."

"Nonsense!" Victor protests. "They wanted you, because you're an amazing designer. And because they loved your collection. And, okay, maybe because you're Japanese, too. Is it so wrong for your country to take pride in your achievements?"

When he puts it that way, Yuuri can't really disagree. So he doesn't. He only hums around the toothbrush and focuses on brushing his teeth, but Victor is Victor: in Yuuri's silence he fills the air with words all on his own. And that... that is more than fine with Yuuri, to be honest.

"So, tell me about it," Victor prompts once he seems to run out of the synonyms for 'wonderful', 'amazing', and 'creative'. "What's the inspiration behind this?"

"It's supposed to remind people of the Japanese flag. You know, the all white background with the red dot in the center? The jacket is shaped like this on purpose, to mimic that dot. But if you didn't notice then I guess–"

Yuuri wants to give a sheepish laugh at how silly his idea was, but he doesn't get to do that. He doesn't even get to finish saying how much he failed, because Victor makes a noise: that little sound, high pitched yet muffled, which he always makes when he realizes something he didn't notice before.

"Oooh," he croons into Yuuri's ear, so sweet that the spearmint toothpaste on Yuuri's lips suddenly stings. "I knew it looked familiar! That's such a great idea, Yuuri! Wow, why didn't I think of that? It's brilliant! And so playful!"

"Is it?" Yuuri asks before he pulls the phone away and spits into the sink. "If you didn't even notice it then I don't think many people would."

"But those who are most important will, no? This is Vogue _Japan_ , Yuuri. I doubt anyone there will miss the obvious reference and your pride in your country."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Victor replies with all the confidence he always seems to have, and it's too hard to argue against that, so Yuuri gives in. He lets himself believe.

"So you like it then?" he asks again, shyly.

He twirls the toothbrush in his fingers, waiting for Victor's answer as if one word from Victor could tear apart the small sliver of happiness that wraps around Yuuri's heart – and, truly, Yuuri thinks it could. He's looked up to Victor for so long that it wouldn't really surprise him if Victor was able to crush his world within the palm of his hand, just like that. Because he wanted to. Because he could.

But the moment Victor's words come, Yuuri feels silly for even considering that, because Victor would never do such a thing. To anyone. He is far too kind for that, too sweet, too–

"I love it," Victor tells him, and his voice sounds like warm honey in Yuuri's ear. "I really, really love it. It's calmer than most of your designs, but it's wearable. It's still avant-garde, but it's also borderline commercial, which actually only adds more charm to the whole aesthetic. Say, did you get many orders for it yet?"

"A few, yes. Oddly enough, not from Japan."

"There will be more, I'm sure of it." Yuuri smiles at the certainty in Victor's voice and cleans his brush under the lukewarm water, smiling to himself like an idiot. "So I take it you'll be busy with those for the next few weeks?"

"Probably." Yuuri sighs lightly. "But not too busy. I will be needed for the initial and final touches but most of it will be done by the crew."

"Good, good. So... if I wanted to take you out to dinner to celebrate, you'd have a free evening open for me?"

Victor says it like it's a question, like it's something that he isn't fully sure about, and he plays it with a lilt that Yuuri knows will be turned into a joke if he rejects him. That little vulnerability that lingers underneath, which trembles in Victor's breath while he waits for an answer... it's more precious to Yuuri than any of Victor's praises. He loves them, loves _him_ , but this honest, open, slightly scared part of Victor is the one that will always make Yuuri's heart flutter and fill with warmth.

So he opens his mouth and says:

"Sure, I think I can pencil you in."

The sweet trill of laughter that follows his words keeps a smile on Yuuri's face until the moment he presses it right to Victor's lips the next day, and from there... it only keeps growing. Just like Yuuri's love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> picture used: xiao wen ju's cover of vogue china for december 2014


	3. these shoes are made for walking (and they'll walk all over you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 3: footwear**
> 
> mentions of the shoe making from chapter 4 of draped in your love

 

 

 

"I have something for you," Victor says the moment the silence around the table begins to grow into something neither of them can control.

It's no one's fault, not really. It's just that the soft glow of the candles, the very good wine which flows freely, and the beautiful man to enjoy a palate-flattering meal with while speaking on the same plane of resonance... it gets deep into the very fibre of Yuuri's heart and makes him _want_.

And, if Victor's dark, hungry eyes across the table from him are anything to go by, that want is more than mutual.

"For me?" Yuuri repeats, licking his dried from talking lips. "What's the occasion?"

"Do I need an occasion to spoil you?"

Victor's smile might seem innocent, but Yuuri knows better. Victor always spoils him, makes him feel like he deserves the world and, worst of all, he makes Yuuri want it, too.

So when Victor stands up, Yuuri doesn't say anything, and Victor passes by him, stopping only to drop a kiss in Yuuri's hair. A kiss that makes Yuuri smile, because he's in love with a man who does things like that out of nowhere, and it's heart-warming and cute.

While Victor's gone, Yuuri finishes off his wine. It slides down his throat like a silky dream, fragrant and sweet, and Yuuri sighs once it's all gone. It's a shame, really. The bottle is already empty, too. The glass is still slightly cold though, or at least colder than his face, so he rests one flushed cheek against it.

It's impossible not to smile as he stares into the flame of a candle.

Victor is such a sweet man. So loving, so caring, so... so fun to be around. He makes Yuuri feel reckless, something Yuuri has never been good at until he's had a few drinks, but with Victor he doesn't need to be drunk to feel that rush. Victor himself is like the alcohol, the drug, the rush, and yet he's also the safe space for Yuuri to crash. He's a man of contradictions, an enabler and safe haven, but that is one of the reasons why he's so irresistible, why he calls out to Yuuri's heart like no one ever did before.

Yuuri could say that that's why he loves him, but that would be a lie. There are so many more things about Victor that ascertain Yuuri in his choice that he could wax poetic about them for hours and still have more to say by the end of it.

Soft footsteps return back to the table and break Yuuri out of his musings, but not out of the good mood. Yuuri turns his head around to look at what Victor has brought with him. The moment he does, Yuuri's goofy smile slips off his face, though, because whatever he was expecting – which, honestly, Yuuri wasn't expecting _anything_ , but it seems that _he was_ without even knowing it – it wasn't this.

"What's that?" Yuuri asks, setting his glass back on the table.

"Open it."

Victor hands him the box, but he doesn't move away. He's waiting.

So with one last glance at his expectant smile, Yuuri slides the silky bow off the big round box that now sits in his lap and he pulls up the lid.

If the box wasn't what he expected, the contents of it definitely aren't either: on a bed of red velvet lies a pair of lace pumps that glimmer with a dusting of glitter in the fluttering candle light.

"I promised you I'd make these for you," Victor tells him when Yuuri turns his disbelieving eyes at him again. "I always intended to keep that promise."

Victor smiles a very satisfied smile that looks so pretty on him that Yuuri wants to kiss him. He doesn't, because that would mean throwing the work of art that sits in his lap to the floor and he can't do that. He can't disrespect Victor's craft like that.

Very carefully, Yuuri pulls one shoe out of the box.

The toe is pointy, which isn't exactly Yuuri's favourite, but he prefers this to open toe. Victor has chosen right, and pleasure burns in Yuuri's chest like sweet candle light as he admires the rest.

The sides are made with lace, airy and light, but moulded into a thickly layered texture that will not tear apart after one use. There is a floral embroidery crawling up the sides to the heel, too – tasteful and sexy. The counter is shimmering, more than the sparse glitter woven into the lace, and it's a beautiful contrast to the vivid red of the sole and the sharpness of the stiletto, which Yuuri prods with his middle finger.

It's a luxurious design. Elegant, yet dazzling.

Yuuri can't find the proper words to compliment Victor's work, so instead, he looks up and demands:

"Put them on me, please."

It's another experience entirely, watching Victor drop to his knees in less than a breath, and Yuuri savours it, just like he savoured the beauty of the shoes Victor's very hands made. Those same hands which now undo the laces on Yuuri's shoes and gently slide them off his feet.

Victor's head is bent between Yuuri's knees and all Yuuri can see is the little swirl of hair that sits in the center of it. He can't help himself from running his hand over it, but once he does, Victor looks up and _oh_ – that was a mistake. Yuuri is captured in Victor's gaze the moment their eyes meet, and now he's a goner. He's taken, lost at sea, drowned with his own desire...

He doesn't even notice when Victor pulls off his socks. He doesn't even feel the cold.

All he feels is the burning of his cheeks, the hush of Victor's apartment and the warm, warm hands on his ankles. That, and the fire churning in his gut, which mirrors the one in Victor's eyes.

Yuuri doesn't know what overcomes him, but he doesn't regret it when he says:

"You look pretty like this."

Victor's cheeks turn red from the delightful pink they were before. It's all Yuuri can do, as he devours the sight of Victor's eyelashes fluttering while he somewhat shyly looks down, is to breathe – and even that is so hard to do when he feels like his entire body will be consumed by fire if he doesn't kiss Victor right this instant.

Before he can, however, Victor takes the shoe from Yuuri's hand and lifts Yuuri's calf to slide it onto his foot. It fits like a glove. If Yuuri was more coherent than now, he maybe would have found it amusing that Victor seems to know his shoe size so... intimately, but Yuuri's mind is currently otherwise occupied. Because it isn't the floor Victor rests his heel to stand on, no. It's his own thigh. And Yuuri does nothing to stop him.

The heel sinks into the soft flesh, delicate, but still there. Victor takes the other shoe and puts it on Yuuri's other leg as if everything is fine. It isn't. Yuuri can see the way he's chewing on his bottom lip, how his hair falls into his eyes more than usual as if to conceal something... something that Yuuri already knows about.

So when Victor puts Yuuri's other foot down onto his other thigh, Yuuri shifts in the chair and gives more weight to the heels digging into Victor's thighs. The gasp he gets in return is more than enough to assure him that he is right.

More than right, actually.

"Thank you, Vitya," he murmurs sweetly, reaching to take Victor's face in his hands. "They're beautiful."

Victor's eyes are hooded and unfocused even from up close. Yuuri can feel the shaky breath Victor struggles to take on his own wet lips.

"They were inspired by you, so of course they are," Victor says, but Yuuri only partially pays attention to the words. He's much more focused on Victor's lips, moving, shaping sweet, delicious sounds that suddenly Yuuri wants to hear more of. "I'm happy you– _ah_ –!"

It's entirely Yuuri's fault, he will admit to it later, while blushing profusely. In the moment, though, he hardly thinks of the consequences. He can only hear Victor's heavy breathing and see his flushed face and dazed eyes, and he moves without considering anything but giving Victor what he wants, _what he deserves_.

He slides his foot up Victor's thigh, drags the heel behind like a hot iron bar on bare skin. And when he reaches Victor's crotch, he presses that finely shaped pointy toe into the hardness that's already there, because Yuuri loves Victor, and he will show him just how grateful he is to have him in his life.

After all, spoiling someone you love is the best way to do it. And Victor has earned himself some good, _good_ spoiling on this fine night. Oh, yes.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pictures used:  
> christian louboutin's follies embellished pointy toe pump (which I can't seem to find online anymore wow!)  
> [christian louboutin's pigalle follies pointy toe pump ](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/christian-louboutin-pigalle-follies-pointy-toe-pump-women/4924630?origin=category-personalizedsort&breadcrumb=Home%2FBrands%2FChristian%20Louboutin%2FShoes&color=black)
> 
> the shoes victor makes for yuuri in this chapter are a combination of both of these if you can imagine it ^u^)b


	4. goths do wear white though, just saying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 4: subcultures of fashion**

 

 

 

Yuuri still has trouble comprehending the idea, even when Victor leads him into the workroom and shows him the dress form which basically looks like nun gown.

"Help," Victor pleads.

"Okay, okay," Yuuri nods, more to himself than to Victor. "Tell me again what the client wants?"

"An avant-garde contemporary goth dress. For a Halloween themed party. She's fine with showing skin. It's, in fact, demanded, so the design needs to incorporate that. She also wanted a corset, but..."

"Contemporary goth," Yuuri repeats and shakes his head. "So basically, what? An avant-garde black dress? With a corset?"

"I think so?"

Victor drops down into one of the stools with a groan. He eyes the dress form with resignation written all over his face, like he doesn't know what to do, which is kind of funny. All things considered.

"Her mom is an old patron of mine, so I couldn't exactly refuse," he explains. "But do you want to know what I know about goths? _Nothing_."

"Lies." Yuuri turns to him with a small smile. "You know they wear black. That's already something."

The look Victor gives him is way more amusing than Yuuri would've thought, so he gives in and laughs at the petulant annoyance Victor directs at him. He is aware of the consequences of doing that, so he isn't really surprised to find Victor pouting once he stops giggling to himself.

A little kiss to Victor's cheek always makes everything better, no matter the trouble he's in, and Yuuri doesn't hesitate to go for the kill this time, either.

"We'll figure something out," he promises to Victor's brightening eyes. "First, though, we need to get more fabric. And lots of lace."

"Lace sounds good. I knew I was forgetting something," Victor agrees. "Look over my sketches while I go grab some leftovers. There should still be a few yards left from back when I made that wedding dress for Princess Sofia."

Yuuri accepts the sketchbook that Victor hands him automatically.

"Sometimes I forget how many famous people you've dressed," he admits when he blinks out of the shock of his boyfriend so casually name-dropping the royalty of Sweden.

"And, still, my best achievement is dressing you," Victor chirps with a smile.

He boops Yuuri's nose, playful and cute, and he's out the door to the storage room in a second or two. Yuuri doesn't even have the time to fully realize how hard he's blushing before he's left alone in the work room. The blush comes like a flood, spilling onto his cheeks and spreading over his entire face, which he drops onto the table. It's not quite a gurgle or a groan that comes out of his mouth, but a combination of both, because, honestly?

Victor Nikiforov is the most adorable man in the world.

And he's Yuuri's boyfriend.

He needs to be given some slack for that.

With his fingers softly touching the place Victor's did before, Yuuri can't help a smile from creeping onto his face. In a happy, mellow mood, he pops open Victor's worn out sketchbook and flips to the doggy-eared page, where the designs for this project must start.

It isn't bad, what Victor thought of. Yuuri has always admired Victor's clean lines and the ability to turn something overdone into a fresh new silhouette, and this dress it's exactly that. It's beautiful, actually.

But it isn't very gothic.

If Yuuri had to describe it... well, it feels a little bridal. Or maybe princess-y would be a better word for it. Which is not a bad thing at all. It just isn't the aesthetic he should be aiming at, so when Yuuri flips through two or three more designs that miss the mark by a tiny margin of Victor just having too many ideas but no actual plan, he knows what he needs to do.

He flips to a clean page, nabs a pencil from the station at the side of the table and steals a few elements from each of the designs, until together they create one cohesive look. And they do, because Victor is brilliant, and even when he's off the mark, he still instinctually designs gorgeous, gorgeous things.

"Wow, that looks nice!"

Victor's voice from right behind him makes Yuuri jump. He twists his head around so fast that something there cracks and they both wince.

"When did you get here? I didn't even hear you come back in," Yuuri says, rubbing at his neck.

"Oh, I just got here for the final touches," Victor replies lightly. He sets the white lace on the table and reaches for the book. "May I?"

"Sure. It's yours after all."

It isn't exactly uncertainty that sits in Yuuri's chest while he watches Victor's face for any changes, but it's similar to that. He isn't afraid that Victor will hate it, no. The man designed those himself. Yet there still is that little side to Yuuri that looks at Victor with the admiration of the teenage him and sees him as the idol he's always seen him as before they met. And to that Yuuri, Victor's approval means everything.

Just like to the whole of Yuuri now, Victor's growing, heart-shaped smile means even more.

"I love it, Yuuri, wow!" Victor grins. "It looks so cool! I almost want to wear it myself!"

"If you plan to do it in white lace," Yuuri says as he taps the bolt of fabric, "you might want to hold onto it and actually wear it to your wedding some day."

Victor's little gasp should be Yuuri's first clue, but he completely misses it until Victor's eyes brighten and begin to sparkle.

"Yuuri Katsuki," Victor breathes, "are you asking me to marry you? Because I will have you know that unless you have a golden ring hiding somewhere in your pocket–"

"What?! No! Oh my god, of course not!" The blush from before is nothing in comparison to how hard Yuuri's face flushes now. He instantly feels hot and cold, all at once, and it's _insane_. "I would never ask you about something that important so casually!"

It doesn't take a genius to see the disappointment in Victor's crestfallen face.

"Oh," Victor gives, a small, small thing. "Okay."

And Yuuri feels guilty, for no fault of his own. He feels terrible. He feels like he has stolen the precious wind from under Victor's wings and that is an offence punishable by something worse than death. Whatever that is.

So he steels his resolve and takes Victor hand to rest a kiss against the top, the palm, and the wrist equally, before he says:

"Let's deal with one thing at a time, alright? The goth wedding dress first. And then... We'll think about it later, okay?"

Later, Yuuri repeats to himself, as he lets Victor's hand go when they finally get to work. Later, Yuuri thinks, as he absently pats the pocket of his jacket to make sure that the tiny velvet box, which hides a specially engraved pair of golden rings, is still safe and ready.

Later, Yuuri knows. _For sure_.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pictures used:  
> [elie saab fall 2018 couture dress](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2018-couture/elie-saab/slideshow/collection#39)  
> [jean paul gaultier spring 2009 couture lace dress](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/spring-2009-couture/jean-paul-gaultier/slideshow/collection#38)
> 
> js but pls give a look at elie saab's full couture collection bc holy fuck he's doing such stunning things that I'm sobbing over here dear lord pls let me wear one of those dresses at least ONCE in my life //prayer hands


	5. brighter than the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 5: past fashion**

 

 

 

Snooping through Victor's wardrobe isn't something Yuuri planned on doing... it just kind of happened?

He was bored. Victor's bed is big, and it isn't the first time Yuuri is staying the night, but somehow lying in it without Victor feels a lot more lonely than Yuuri would've thought. He can't really stand it.

So he decides to wait while Victor finishes his night-time routine in the bathroom – which lasts _veery_ long, but love is love, – yet waiting on the principle is rather boring, too. Even more boring than just lying in Victor's huge bed and looking at the pristine white ceiling, if Yuuri's to be honest.

And, since boredom breeds stupidity, Yuuri does feel a little justified when he opens the wardrobe door and peers inside.

He isn't looking for skeletons or secrets buried under six feet of clothes, not really. He's mostly just curious about what Victor puts in his own private wardrobe of daily wearables, because he knows well that Victor is always glamorous. Always polished and always smart with his garment choices, that has been his image for as long as Yuuri can remember. But whether all that is for the public only or just as much for him personally, Yuuri can't know for sure unless he sees what's hidden behind those doors.

After all, someone's official taste doesn't need to be reflected by the inside of their wardrobe, right?

It does, in this case. Yuuri isn't disappointed to find out. He flips through the beautiful rose gold hangers, padded with soft velvet that caresses his fingers, and what he finds is stylish, beautiful things one after another after ano–

Except one.

With a gasp, almost, Yuuri pulls out the ridiculous golden thread denim trousers, which shine under the yellow lights of Victor's master bedroom as if they were tumble dried with golden glitter.

But the fact that Victor has a monstrosity like that in his wardrobe isn't what actually makes Yuuri's head spin. Oh no. It's the tag hidden neatly under the waistband, which reads what Yuuri knows it does without even checking.

_Yuugen._

Ready-to-wear 2015 spring capsule collection, celebrating the first Asian man to win Olympic gold, Yuzuru Hanyu.

Yuuri doesn't think twice before he pads through the room on bare feet and throws open the bathroom door.

"Victor, _why_ –"

The noise of surprise Victor makes gets drowned in the sound of pure terror that comes a split second later when the jar of something-or-whatever slips out of his hand and he barely manages to catch it before it crashes on the side of the sink.

"Yuuri, dear God, you scared the wrinkles out of me, I swear," Victor says, pressing a hand to his heart.

"What wrinkles, you don't have wrinkles," Yuuri replies, casual and sincere at the same time, which makes Victor's lips quirk a little despite his still wide with shock eyes.

He looks quite silly, shirtless and only wearing his black briefs and a pink headband to push his hair back from his face. Yuuri loves him like this: imperfect, domestic, human.

But even his love can't override his need to know the truth.

"That isn't why I'm here, though," Yuuri says. "Why do you have _those_?"

He shows Victor the pants. Victor blinks at them like he doesn't understand the question, and maybe he doesn't. Hell, Yuuri himself doesn't understand what made him make those, but he doesn't understand even more why anyone would _buy_ them.

Unlike his own, Victor's confusion clears as fast as his surprise has done just seconds ago.

"Oh, those!" Victor's eyes light up. "I think I got them from Chris for a birthday a couple years ago? Where did you find them? I forgot I even had them, wow!"

"Where do you think I found them?" Yuuri asks back, because isn't that obvious? "So you didn't buy them yourself, yes?"

"I didn't, no," Victor confirms. "Why?"

Yuuri watches him turn back to the big mirror and dot some cream all over his face. While Victor massages it into his skin, his eyes never leave Yuuri's through the reflection and it's... well, it's oddly comforting to be able to stand there and casually talk about fashion with his boyfriend. It makes Yuuri feel like, well, like they're family. And they are, kind of, aren't they?

"I made those," Yuuri finally says.

"Wow, really?" Victor asks, turning back to him again. "They don't look like something you'd normally go for."

"It's–"

Yuuri fights hard against the blush that threatens to spill over his cheeks, and he fails. He leans against the doorframe as he stares at the rough material in his hands.

"I was young and very stupid back then." He cringes. "And very impressionable. My dark past is not something I like to think about, much less see it in person again, so I was surprised to find these here of all places."

"Dark past, huh?"

Victor's eyes shine brightly, and Yuuri just _knows_ what he's going to say next, so he shuts his eyes and waits for it.

"It doesn't seem so dark under those lights. And... aren't these from 2015?"

"Oh, shut it," Yuuri mumbles, but it's hard to stop his lips from grinning even as he leaves Victor to his beauty rituals and goes back to the bedroom.

He throws the pants over the back of a chair and crawls into bed. It doesn't take Victor much longer to slink into bed with him, and once he does, he's instantly wrapped around Yuuri like he's been waiting for this the whole day. Knowing him, he probably has, so Yuuri lets himself be held while he locks their fingers together right before they drift off to sleep.

When he wakes up, the day is already bright and good, and Yuuri thinks that maybe this was all a bad dream, since the pants are now gone from where he's left them last night. But it's too much luck for one person to have, it seems. Yuuri's bubble breaks when Victor returns from his morning walk with Makkachin and his entrance dazzles Yuuri metaphorically and literally, both.

Victor Nikiforov, head designer of VN and Yuuri's lovely boyfriend, on a day as fine as this, has apparently decided to wear the biggest, happiest smile, and bring home a huge bouquet of beautiful roses, all the while shining like a disco ball from the waist down, because he just had to wear those pants, didn't he?

"No," Yuuri tells him when Victor's twinkling eyes catch him in the bedroom doorway. "I'm going back to sleep until I find a universe where those pants never happened. Goodnight."

"How about I make you a deal," Victor offers, coming up close, so that only the bouquet stands between them. "If you can tear those off of me, I promise I will never wear them again."

He leans closer still. The flowers rustle in feeble protest, but Yuuri can't care less. Victor's smile is quirky, it's cute, and it's right there for him to kiss – so he grabs that silly face and does just that.

"Fine," he says into Victor's lips. "You've got yourself a deal."

The flowers land on the floor, completely forgotten, and soon the pants join them as well, but by that point no one really cares about either. Not anymore.

They have better things to do, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> picture used:  
> [versace gold thread denim trousers](https://www.versace.com/eu/en/men/clothing/trousers-jeans/gold-thread-denim-trousers-a80k/A80308-A226522_A80K.html?cgid=220600)
> 
> for those who are In The Know, I'm sorry I'm a one trick pony when it comes to this one but I couldn't figure out anything better ;u;


	6. because every little girl dreams of wearing a gown one day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 6: gender role subversion**
> 
> mentions of this in chapter 4 and 9 of draped in your love

 

 

 

"Close your eyes," Victor whispers into Yuuri's ear. "No peeking!"

"I won't, I won't! Promise!"

Yuuri laughs at how silly this is. Victor still doesn't believe him and covers his eyes with his own hands from behind. It feels like a somewhat awkward hug, and once they move it's even more clumsy and awful.

Yuuri can't stop giggling.

"You're so mean, my Yuuri," Victor complains as they walk wherever it is Victor wants to take him. Yuuri can't see anyway. "Being laughed at for my efforts, how cruel a life I must be leading!"

"Fine, fine, I'm not laughing anymore," Yuuri says, but he can't stop grinning. "So what is this big surprise? Please tell me you didn't get us a puppy."

"I didn't," Victor reassures. "But that actually is a pretty good idea. I will file that away for later."

"That wasn't a suggestion!" Yuuri protests, but they both know that he would never turn away a puppy that needed home and lots of love. And it's a good thing that Victor and Yuuri had plenty of each to give, but still–

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Victor tells him, and then takes one hand off of Yuuri's eyes to open a door. "Come on in, sweetheart."

"So, we're in your workroom," Yuuri deduces by the smell of fabric, glue and everything else that makes a workroom smell like home. "What now?"

"Now, I need you to keep your eyes closed until I say otherwise. Can you do that for me?"

"What wouldn't I do for you?" Yuuri answers with a little smile.

He doesn't expect it, so the sweet kiss Victor leaves on his lips comes as a complete surprise. Yuuri can't say he doesn't enjoy it, but it ends sooner than he'd like and he's left alone and in the dark again. With a small sigh, and a small smile to match it, he waits and waits and waits, while Victor moves around the room. Finally, the rustle of fabric and the sound of the dress form base being dragged over the floorboards stops.

"You can open your eyes now," Victor says.

Yuuri doesn't even realize how hard his heart has been beating in anticipation until the first bright lights hit him. He's a little breathless and a whole lot blind, but he blinks fast to let his sight adjust, so he can see what all the fuss was abo–

And then he's breathless for a whole another reason altogether.

"Wow," is the only thing he can manage to say.

The dress that sits so effortlessly on the dress form looks like it's made of smoke. It flows and it curves and it glides – it's so beautiful that Yuuri can't lift his jaw from where it's dropped even if he wanted to.

The black and red contrast against each other, but they don't clash. In fact, the black almost seems to have been dipped in red dye and, knowing Victor, Yuuri wouldn't put it past him. The transition between the colours looks seamless, effortless, and so does the ruffling on the bottom. Its waves are soft, graceful, absolutely natural. Victor's talented hand shows in this, too, and Yuuri's heart flutters in his chest at how happy that makes him.

The top is as polished as the bottom, Yuuri finds when he traces his fingers softly over the ridges of the bustier and the waistline. It's veil all along, he notes. The whole dress is made of it, layer after layer after layer. It must have taken ages to get right, but the end result is possibly the most beautiful dress Yuuri has ever seen.

It's a true gown, worthy of a princess or a queen.

"Do you like it?" Victor asks.

"I– Wow, I can't even–" Yuuri starts, shakes his head and finally tears his eyes away from the dress to look at Victor with as much admiration as he's always had for him. "I love it, Vitya. It's stunning."

Victor's smile is as beautiful as his work when he says: "Then it's all yours."

"Wait, what?" Yuuri blinks. "What do you mean _it's mine_?"

"I made it for you," Victor replies. "To match the shoes."

Yuuri doesn't really know what to say to that, because what can he say? Thank you seems like it's not nearly good enough and no other words make any sense, so Yuuri crosses the room and takes Victor's face in his hands. He pulls him down the few inches there is between them and kisses the living daylights out of his stunning, creative, incredible boyfriend.

Who needs words when he can just do this?

He still wants to say something, he needs to, and when they part for air, still wrapped up close in each other, Yuuri breathes in the same air Victor breathes out, and he says:

"This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me. And it's even more precious to me, because it's your own creation. Victor, I– I can't tell you how much I love it. I just _can't_. There are no words in any of the languages I know to say that right."

But that seems to be more than alright with Victor, who smiles at Yuuri that darling heart-shaped smile of his and rubs his nose on Yuuri's, softly enough to melt Yuuri's heart all over again.

"Those words were perfect to me. Just like you," he chirps, and then asks: "Do you want to try it on?"

And Yuuri doesn't need to be asked twice. He kisses Victor again, hard and sweet, and with all the love he has for him in his stupid, stupid heart, and when he backs away, he's grinning so hard he thinks his face is going to break.

"Yes, please," he says. "I'd love to."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> picture used:  
> [ana radu veil dress](https://starshiners.com/dresses/ana-radu-red-dress-luxurious-with-inside-lining-with-ruffle-details-from-veil-fabric/pid/S028563-1)


	7. worthy of a queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **for day 7: creativity**

 

 

 

"But peplums are so old," Victor whines and cuddles Yuuri closer. "They're all 2012. It's been _years_ since 2012, Yuuri. If you didn't notice."

"Yes, I did notice. Thanks," Yuuri snarks from where he's tucked under Victor's chin, resting against his chest and working on a new design for his prêt-à-porter womenswear collection. "But I kind of like peplums, sue me."

"Okay, I can agree that they look good on narrow waists and, fine, I will give you that they're elegant." Victor mumbles into his hair. "But they're _old_. They're still _old_. How are you planning to make something so old feel fresh again?"

"Does it have to feel fresh?" Yuuri asks back, tapping the page of his notebook with the tip of the pencil. "I mean, yes, it's supposed to be new and exciting, but wouldn't something old presented today still feel sort of new?"

Victor makes a sound that is half interest, half confusion, and then rests a little kiss behind Yuuri's ear.

"Show me your vision, love," he asks.

So Yuuri doodles. He draws the outline of the dress, fills in the ruffles and the tail and the big, big bows. Then he adds another skirt sketch next to it with the robe à la polonaise and drapes, lots and lots of drapes. He adds abstractly hanging corsets and crinolines in the free space of the page, and ruffles the elbow-length sleeves as if there was still not enough ruffles going around.

"You know how box shoulders are a thing now, right?" Yuuri asks while he flips the page and draws one of those. "They also do those long trains instead of sleeves, which go like this," he adds as he draws those sleeves in, trailing low over the page. "They are a kind of cape sown into the dress so that they're all one piece? Those are stunning, I love them so much. They're inspired by period dresses, and they're gorgeous – don't get me wrong! But what's wrong with the old-school period looks?"

Yuuri flips back to his original drawings.

"What happened to appreciating the refined glamour of the Victorian Era? We swoon over the romance, the subtle touches and longing glances, the gloves and the umbrellas, but what about the rest? Does anyone even remember that green fabrics used to be dyed with arsenic? That women wore those dresses _willingly_ , because they loved the colour and the style?"

Yuuri pauses for a breath and then keeps going:

"What we see of these period gowns now is mostly the pretty side. The glamour side. It's sparkly and chic, and it's a fantasy. We don't look at the ugly. And the ugly is that these dresses were often dirty, trekking in the mud and other things off the streets. They were poisonous, they were flammable, they were a hazard to the environment – but they were still beautiful. They were dangerous, yet so irresistible. Hell, do you remember that ladies used to wear fully stuffed birds on their hats? It doesn't get more metal or inspiring than that."  

"Then you're thinking, what? Something along the lines of the fall 2016 Valentino haute couture?" Victor sits his chin on Yuuri's shoulder and hums, though he sounds slightly confused about where Yuuri is going with this.

"No, not that," Yuuri replies. "That... well, that rubbed me the wrong way. It seemed a bit... cardinally? Half the looks reminded me of priests and, while I admire the guts it took to put those ruffs on the models, it looked a little cheap with some of the other garments. Maybe that clash of the past and the present was intended, but it didn't work for me to be honest. Still, that was a very interesting concept and I'm glad it exists out there."

"Then what are you thinking in that pretty head of yours, hmm?"

Victor asks it like he doesn't know how Yuuri's mind works yet, but Yuuri can feel his smile on the skin of his neck. It warms up there, and Yuuri's heart warms with it. Victor might not always follow along with Yuuri's wild ideas, those silly goose chases down the rabbit hole of inspiration, but he is always supportive. Always there to give critique when asked, and give support and love when needed.

"I'm thinking of doing a collection of three period dresses for a charity auction. All in good classic styling, so they might not be highly wearable, but that isn't what I do, so I guess it should be fine. For this one," Yuuri taps the notebook page, "that will be all split into two dresses. It's too messy for one. But I would want to have another with a big, bold Medici collar. You know the ones that just stand around the head like fans?"

"Ohh," Victor breathes. "That could look spectacular. And appropriately dangerous."

"It will," Yuuri says, and then quickly adds: "I hope so."

"I'm sure it will," Victor agrees with him as he squeezes him around his waist to give more weight to his words. "You have your mind made up, so nothing can stand in your way now. And if you need help..."

He doesn't need to finish. Yuuri turns his head a little, so he can smile at Victor and see his sweet, loving eyes, and he says back:

"...then I know I can count on you. Thank you, Vitya."

"Anytime, my love. The pleasure is all mine." He grins. "After all, it isn't every day that I get to work with a genius like my husband."

Yuuri's cheeks accept the compliment with the same composure his heart does: they both heat up. But it's been so long, Yuuri has spent many years with Victor now, so he knows that this is a double-edged sword that can be turned into his own weapon, too.

"What can I say," Yuuri answers with a small cheeky smile that is far easier to call on when Victor's eyes shine like they do now, "if you had such a well of inspiration around like _my_ husband is, you'd be called a genius, too, I'm sure."

The sweet, sweet way Victor's face dips into pink is one thing Yuuri will never grow bored of watching. Another one is how he can just lean over and kiss Victor's lips whenever he wants to, and he wants to just now, so he does it without thinking twice and it's sweeter and better than any dress he's ever made.

And the third thing Yuuri will never get bored of, is how Victor opens up to him and meets him where he is, because some people aren't born with wings – they get them when love finds home in their hearts, and Yuuri has all of these now: love and wings, and his Victor, too.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pictures used:  
> [zuhair murad fall 2018 couture dress](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2018-couture/zuhair-murad/slideshow/collection#8)  
> [zuhair murad fall 2018 couture queen gown](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2018-couture/zuhair-murad/slideshow/collection#55)
> 
> pls check out the full collection too bc it's full of gems and so stunning wowowowowow!!!! 
> 
> and so, tis be all for now, my lovely friends! this random impromptu series is over, but the fun with fashion au is only just starting! please keep an eye out for the main fic, which will be dropping the first chapter on november 9th! it will be a huge thing of over 80k words and 200+ pages, so ready your tea, polish your glasses and let's meet again in november! <3
> 
> “In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different.”  
> — Coco Chanel
> 
> EDIT: if you've loved this story, chapter one of the main fic is already up [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16566449/chapters/38816939)! make sure to check it out ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this little piece of writes, please stick around for more bc there's 7 days of this event and a whole 80k fic to follow, so?? if you enjoy fashion aus, you know what to do... //winkwonk


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